


A Team of Two

by spockina



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: (...mostly. Link's also hurting a lil bit), (Rhett's the one hurting tho lol), Angst, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Link-centered, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23405686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spockina/pseuds/spockina
Summary: In another universe, Link goes to film school, like the original plan, and Rhett becomes his manager. They achieve the things they set out to, like they always meant, except for the main one: keeping their friendship healthy.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal, mentions in passing of Rhett/Jessie, mentions of Link/Christy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	A Team of Two

**Author's Note:**

> teeny tiny au where link does indeed go to film school and rhett takes business instead so that they could be a team, but then link is a shit lmao i love hurting. i’m truly scared of this one so pls gimme your thoughts lmao
> 
> working title was "the ultracheese", where the quote comes from. it's a song by the arctic monkeys, and i think the same idea behind the song fits snuggly here.

> _Oh the dawn won’t stop weighing a tonne  
> _ _I’ve done some things that I shouldn’t have done  
> _ _But I haven’t stopped loving you once_

After a short, but hard time of tears, screams of anger and frustration, sadness and fake laughter to fill the room, they decided, collectively, that Link would, in the end, go to film school, and Rhett would take business. “We’re gon’ be a team if I have to kill someone, Link,” Rhett had said, and Link had laughed, and replied with _blood oath_ , as they did when things got rough.

Coming of age was difficult enough all on its own, hormones doing the Devil’s work on his body – and doing enough of it to send Link into overdrive sometimes. Link shied away from thoughts of Rhett’s body when they were down by the river; craved the nights where he’d fall asleep with his head pillowed on Rhett’s extended arm; tried to stop relating Rhett to the stars in the sky.

College brought them closer – literally, they were living together. Link felt as if he was supposed to learn something new about Rhett, what with actually _living_ with him, but he ended up only learning about himself: he would mold to be whatever fit best with Rhett. It was that way about dishes, socks left everywhere around the apartment, Rhett writing his papers at the last minute and Link having to annoy him about it.

It was Rhett giving him a shy, quiet peck on the lips, and Link having to do a double take, because that wasn’t on the script. Link could feel Rhett’s breath in his own lungs, the way Rhett’s breaths stuttered, waiting for Link to decide what the future of this was going to be. Having just learned something about himself, Link took the plunge, arms around Rhett like he could stop his best friend from shaking, lips seeking Rhett’s like he hadn’t allowed himself to think about for so long.

They never talked about it. They never settled an agreement, it was just what it was: behind closed doors, in the darkest hours, in hidden spots. It felt so natural, so good, real, but it was wrong, wasn’t it? Isn’t that what Link had heard his whole life? It was a sin, and Link, a God-fearing kid, found himself sinning in the dark, all thoughts abandoned for those nights where laying with Rhett, listening to his breaths, was all Link wanted, and he was gonna get it.

Link was very funny ( _is_ very funny), and he had all the improv groups and drama clubs to show for it. Film school was fun, and he liked the technical part of it, but he was _made_ for comedy. From the gangly, skinny, long body that made for great punchlines out of himself, to the dumb southern hick vibes; from the genius mind that could come up with jokes on the spot, to making and then laughing at anything resembling a fart or a dick. Link was funny, and so was Rhett. No one ever asked, and so Link never told, but most of his improv practices was rehashing Rhett’s jokes. (Rhett knew. They were a team – they _are_ a team.)

And then, one day, Link met a girl. He met a girl because he was funny, and she was funny, too, and that was the pattern of Link’s affections: funny. Link wanted to think it didn’t mean anything, but he knew on that first night, in that deep, undeniable way, that she was gonna change everything.

She did, but she didn’t mean to.

Link just… couldn’t. He couldn’t, in his right mind, keep going like that. He never retreated from Rhett, he just introduced them. And Rhett, gorgeous, smart, _sharp_ Rhett knew. Took the interaction for what it meant: Link’s kindest way of telling him _we’re through_.

They never talked about it, but Link never stopped loving Rhett.

When they graduated from college, Rhett said, “we should move. Hollywood is gon’ do you wonders,” and Link said, mirth in his voice, “it’s gon’ do _us_ wonders,” and Rhett smiled down at him just by virtue of being taller – any bystander would tell you that Rhett meant, in fact, to be smiling _up_ at Link, because he was always looking at Link like Link hung the moon. Link knew it, too.

They couldn’t just move, though. Link got married, and didn’t dare ask Rhett to be his best man; it felt like casual cruelty, and he wouldn’t. Rhett got married after that, and didn’t ask Link either, but made _sure_ Link knew he was just returning the favor, except – except Rhett didn’t take his kindness at all, except Rhett thought Link’s kindness was its own kind of cruelty, and he made sure Link knew.

There were rocky times between the conversation and the wedding, but wedding day, when it was just the two of them, Rhett looked at him, and said “I still love you,” and Link, this time, recognized it for what it was: a chance for them. Rhett wasn’t offering to walk out on his own wedding; he loved her too much for that. But Rhett was offering them another chance, and Link knew. He could have said any variation of words: me too, I love you, let’s fix this. Instead he said _I know_ , and Rhett nodded, and again, knew what Link was actually saying: I love you, but we ain’t doing this.

They moved to California. It was, simultaneously, the easiest and the hardest thing Link did in his life. The easiest, because Link shot to stardom in the blink of an eye, already having a well stablished base back home, and the hardest, because the larger he became, the farthest he got from Rhett.

Not literally, either. It would have been easier if he were literally away from Rhett, but he wasn’t. Rhett was right there, literally his manager, from the start. That was the whole reason why Rhett took business in school: he always said, “you’re gon’ be a star, and I’ll be there.” So, not literally, no. Rhett was always right there, his manager, with an assistant, an agent; Link’s right-hand man. But Link could feel it happening. Link could see in the contrast between Rhett’s booming laughter and his dry eyes, his loud voice and the emptiness in his tone.

Rhett was living in a house just down the street from Link, with his wife and his children, and Link was living in a house down the street from Rhett, with his wife and his children, and they both had dogs, and they were best friends. The best of friends.

Best friends. Blood oath brothers. Two halves of a whole. Except for the bit where Link killed a little bit of Rhett every day. Except for the bit where he made sure he had to add a _like a brother_ , every time he wanted to say he loved Rhett. Except for the part where he would only ever touch Rhett if a camera was present, to make sure nothing could be deconstructed. Except for how he never forgot how Rhett’s lips tasted, or how Rhett’s skin smelled, or how Rhett’s heartbeat skipped a bit when Link was laying with his head on Rhett’s chest and ran his nails up Rhett’s belly – and to try and purge those memories, he pushed Rhett away when Rhett _needed_ his best friend.

Link was ( _is_ ) a comedy genius, Rhett by his side every step of the way – more often than not, guiding his steps. Link won awards, starred in movies, was the face of campaigns. Funny to die for, and handsome to boot.

Link was a powerhouse, and Rhett was the driving force. Not everyone knew that, but Link did. Rhett did, too. Rhett ran an empire called Mythical, with Link Neal center-front, with creations far and wide away from only Link, but, truly: an empire. Link’s name attached to it, but Rhett’s work behind it.

They worked hard, and worked well, and worked together. And Rhett still loved Link, so deeply, like it had never started so that it could have never ended, but he also resented Link, and Link could see that in the lines around his eyes. Link didn’t take offense; he allowed Rhett his resentment.

Link still loved Rhett, he never stopped.

But being a comedy genius and a good man didn’t come for free. And when they parted ways in the late afternoon, each going for their own car even though they lived down the street from each other, Link couldn’t help thinking of what could have been.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on tumblr [@spockina](https://spockina.tumblr.com/post/181837867794/spockina-teeny-tiny-au-where-link-does-indeed); you can find me there


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